Yet these did not perish quite unavenged, for many
of the Romans, their arms filled with priceless spoils of gold and
silver, the treasures of immemorial time, sank down overcome by the
heat, and where they fell they died.
From the Court of Israel went up one mighty wail of those who sank
beneath the sword. From the thousands of the Romans went up a savage
shout of triumph, the shout of those who put them to the sword. From the
multitude of the Jews who watched this ruin from the Upper City went
up a ceaseless scream of utter agony, and dominating all, like the
accompaniment of some fearful music, rose the fierce, triumphant roar of
fire. In straight lines and jagged pinnacles the flames soared hundreds
of feet into the still air, leaping higher and ever higher as the white
walls and gilded roofs fell in, till all the Temple was but one gigantic
furnace, near which none could bide save the dead, whose very garments
took fire as they lay upon the ground. Never, was such a sight seen
before; never, perhaps, will such a sight be seen again--one so awesome,
yet so majestic.
Now every living being whom they could find was slain, and the Romans
drew back, bearing their spoil with them. But the remainder of the Jews,
to the number of some thousands, escaped by the bridges, which they
broke down behind them, across the valley into the Upper City, whence
that piercing, sobbing wail echoed without cease.
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